Your Side Now
by TurnMyGriefToGrace
Summary: This is just a post season seven finale one shot, set the next morning.  I wanted to attempt to fix what happened between Meredith and Derek in that episode, because I felt somewhat let down by the ending. I hope you enjoy it.


**Disclaimer: If Grey's belonged to me, things would be different. Very, very different. I don't own the song used for the title, either; Trent Dabbs does.**

**So, this is just a post season seven finale one shot. I wanted to attempt to fix what happened between Meredith and Derek in that episode, because I felt somewhat let down by the ending. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! :)**

**…**

The floorboards creak under Derek's feet as he passes through the hall toward his bedroom. His. Hers. Theirs? It was theirs yesterday, but today, he wasn't sure what to call it. When he reaches the door, he pauses, his hand hovering over the knob.

_To love each other, even when we hate each other. No running, ever. Nobody walks out, no matter what happens._

The latter had been _his_ addition to their vows. Knowing that he broke his own promise to his wife makes his insides churn with guilt. He runs a frustrated hand through his tousled hair, windblown and matted after spending a night outside in his would be-could be daughter's future bedroom.

_That we'll take care of each other, even when we're old and smelly and senile_. _And if I get Alzheimer's, and forget you… _The vulnerability in her voice rings fresh in his mind as though she'd said that mere seconds ago, not two years.

That had been her addendum. Meredith was strong, but Derek knew that fear weighed on her mind more than she'd like to admit. She wanted to find a cure as much as he did. One day, he might be the one with an Alzheimer's-ridden wife; but she'd be the sick one, helpless to protect him from the hurt he'd have to go through. She knew firsthand what it was like to be the loved one of someone with the disease. She knew the helplessness and the anguish and the crap that was involved in that role, and he knew it was something Meredith wouldn't wish on anyone.

_This is forever._

With the thought, he turns the doorknob, and steps tentatively into the room, careful not to disturb her in case she was sleeping. The early morning sunlight slices through the blinds, and casts strips of whitish-yellow light onto his wife. He cocks his head when he sees Zola next to her, Meredith's arm wrapped protectively around her body. Her chubby, little hand is resting on Meredith's chest, rising and falling each time Meredith breathed. It's a picture that he wants to hold onto forever, but still feels like a punch in the gut.

_That's why she called you a dozen times last night_, a nagging voice in his mind tells him accusingly. _She's here with your daughter, and you're the one who's too proud and hurt and petulant to answer your goddamn phone. _The guilt increases tenfold, and he sighs.

Meredith's eyelids twitch at the sound, and she rubs her nose before opening her eyes. They land on him as she wakes up, and the look on her face is one of confusion. Like she didn't expect him to show up at all, much less be standing in their bedroom at seven in the morning.

"Hi," he says, his voice soft.

Meredith glances down at the baby practically fused to her side, and kisses the top of her head. The gesture makes his eyes water and he smiles slightly. If she notices, she doesn't comment.

"What are you doing here?" she asks. Her tone isn't biting or harsh. It isn't much of anything, really. Just a question.

"I, uh…" His voice gives out on him as he grapples for something to say. "She's here," is all he can think of.

"Who?"

"Zola," Derek says, confused. "Is someone else here?"

Meredith nods, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Cristina is. Or, was. I don't know if she left. I've been up here all night."

"Oh," he says.

"She's pregnant. And Owen kicked her out because he wants a baby and she wants an abortion."

The way she says it, staring straight ahead at nothing, her voice devoid of any emotion, makes his heart clench inside his chest. This time last year, Meredith was pregnant. Only he didn't know until she wasn't anymore, and she'd only known for hours before she miscarried. Their baby was taken away, and they had no say in it.

"Meredith…"

"Don't," she says. "Please, just… I've been up most of the night with the baby. I'm exhausted." She carefully disentangles herself from a still sleeping Zola. After she shuffles out of bed, she puts a shield of pillows around her tiny body so she can't roll. "I may end up screwing her up as much as my mother screwed me up, but it turns out, I'm a damn good diaper changer."

"I didn't know you were here with her, or I would've come home," he says. "I'm sorry."

Meredith kneels down and picks up a yellow blanket with ducks on it, and neatly folds it before putting it in the tiny crib set up by the window. "Yeah, well, if you would have answered the phone, you would have known, and you could have been here on the first night home with our daughter. That was your choice, so before you go saying I'll be a crappy mom, you might want to think about that."

"I know. I should've called you back. I'm sorry. I was angry. Not that that's an excuse, but…" he sighs in defeat. "Meredith, please."

"Part of me knows you didn't mean what you said. But the other part of me? The part that tells me I have no business being a mother in the first place? That part of me believes what you said, and it scares the crap out of me," Meredith says, keeping her voice low. "Because what if you're right? I mean, the universe took away our first baby. Maybe that was a sign that we're not cut out for this. Or me, anyway."

She walks out into the hall with a bag full of baby soap and into the bathroom. She doesn't close the door, so Derek follows her in, figuring that even if this ended up in a screaming match, at least Zola wouldn't hear.

Meredith slides back the shower door, and starts pulling bath supplies from a plastic hospital bag. Derek leans against the sink. "The miscarriage was not your fault. I don't want you to think—"

"Derek, think about it," Meredith cuts in as she puts purple and yellow bottles in the shower caddy.

The labels say things like _Lavender and Oatmeal_, and _No More Tears_, and _Bedtime Bath_, and the enormity of all this nearly overwhelms him: You have a daughter now. You need to bathe her and change her diapers and feed her, and do all those things parents do, starting today, ready or not.

Meredith's voice interrupts his train of thought.

"You got me pregnant through freaking birth control, and we lose that baby. And then, when we actually starting _trying _to conceive, it's like my body forgot how to reproduce," Meredith says, sounding equal parts disappointed and pissed at herself, two things Derek never wanted her to feel, from the second he learned she'd miscarried.

She rolls the empty plastic bag into a wadded ball before tossing it in the trashcan. "I'm angry about that every day. Do you know how frustrating it is to know that your own body can't do what it's biologically designed to do? I know you said not to blame myself, but who else can I blame? Clearly, your sperm know what to do. It's my uterus that broken. Do you know how powerless that makes me feel, Derek? To know that we can't have kids of our own, and that that's _my_ fault. Not yours. Mine."

Derek feels like a puny, popped balloon, miserably deflating to the floor. "Meredith."

Hot, angry tears spill down her face, and she wipes them away with the sleeve of her shirt. "It's like the universe gets some kind of perverse joy in knocking me down, and I'm used to it. But then we met Zola, and I thought maybe the universe was finally finished screwing with me. And then last night, you didn't show up."

"I know."

She sits on the ledge of the tub and leans forward, weaving her fingers together. "My best friend is pregnant, which… is just about as cruel as it gets. You and I do everything but attempt to crack the code to get an immaculate conception of our own, and still, it doesn't work."

She spots Alex's shampoo bottle still sitting in the shower, and shakes her head. "And Alex, who stabbed me in the back, is also the reason Zola is probably ours to keep, and I kicked him out of the only real home he's ever known."

Meredith laughs, and Derek can't decide whether the tone of the sound he normally loved is lighthearted or bitter. "And April Kepner is my freaking boss. The woman who got you shot is in charge of me. So, you know what, screw the universe. I can take whatever it throws at me."

_Okay. We're gonna be okay. You and I, we're a team, right? We're tough. We have that in common. I am very glad you're here. I didn't think your first day was gonna be quite like this. But _I am gonna get it together, and we are gonna figure it out.__

She peeks out of the bathroom and checks to make sure Zola is still sleeping soundly, then leans against the shower door. "Look, I know you're mad. And you have every right to be. If this had been my trial and you messed it up, I'd be just as pissed at you as you are at me. "

_You see things in black and white. Meredith doesn't. You need a spoonful of that. You need her. She's the one_. Derek can almost feel the rainwater seeping through his jeans as he remembers sitting on the bench outside the ER with his mother, her engagement ring still warm in his palm. And then again, when he stood outside the prison waiting for Meredith, and held her, let her cry as long as she needed to until she wanted to get back in the car. _I know you don't understand me. I don't understand me. I wanted to show him compassion. That's why I went. That's the reason. And it was horrible._

"I am pissed," Derek admits. "But I do understand. You invalidated the trial that may have potentially saved your life one day, at the expense of your own career. And you did it for someone else. That makes you brave. Even if I don't agree with what you did, I understand _why _you did it."

Meredith bites at her lower lip and stares at the bathroom rug in silence. If there's one thing he knows about his wife, it's that when she wants to talk, she does, so he takes the opportunity she's granted him to keep going.

"I put everything I had into that trial so that if, God forbid, you're ever diagnosed with it, there would be a cure. And even if we couldn't find it, at least we would know that we did everything in our power to try," he explains.

Derek takes two strides across the bathroom floor, and stands next to her. His voice is soft when he speaks. "I didn't do this trial for fame or fortune or a damn Harper Avery. I wanted to do it for you, because I know you're scared. I'm scared, too." He swallows against the tears in his throat, and feels her lean into him, just a fraction of an inch.

"I saw what your mother's disease did to you. And I see what it's doing to Richard, and maybe that makes me selfish, but I don't ever want to go through that, Meredith. I don't want to watch you disappear in front of my eyes, and know there's not a damn thing I can do to fix it. I don't want Zola to go through that, or any other kids we might have. But even if all that happens, I'd still remind you who I am a thousand times a day. I wouldn't leave your side for a second, because I love you."

He brushes his tears from under his eyes. He can smell her hair when he inhales, and it comforts him. "I know that's no excuse for letting you think you'd be a bad mother. That's not true, and we both know it. Zola's only been here one night, and you're already an amazing mom. The way she was sleeping, curled up next to you like that? She trusts you to keep her safe. She loves you, Meredith."

A flicker of a smile appears on her lips, and Meredith turns to him. "She loves you, too."

"Mer, I'm so sorry."

She nods. "I know. I am, too." She shuffles her feet, squishing the fuzzy plush bathmat between her toes. "So, now what?"

_You've never done this before?_ He'd been standing in the doorway, while she sat on the bed, attempting to punish him with the silent treatment. Her small, coy smile revealed her answer. _No, I've never done this before._

Derek shrugs. "I don't know."

A stretch of silence lingers for a few moments before she speaks. "We, uh, we need a crib. An actual crib. She hates that one, which is why she ended up in bed, next to me," Meredith says, brushing some hair away from her face.

It's her olive branch, and he accepts it. "I'll go out and get one as soon as the store opens."

"Okay."

Across the hall, they hear Zola's cries, alerting them that she's awake, and ready to start her day. They take the three steps across the hall into their own bedroom, and when Zola sees them, her crying ceases and she smiles, reaching out both of her pudgy hands toward her parents. Even if things weren't perfect, it didn't much matter when their daughter looked at him like that.

"Good morning," Meredith greets her with a smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Derek walks over and scoops her up from the pillow fortress Meredith built. He hugs her tight, like he never wants to let go. Meredith knows he never will. Zola rests her head on his chest, and he breathes her in. "Welcome home."

_Don't hide  
>Let me see it from your side now<br>It's alright  
>Let me see it from your side now<em>


End file.
